The Road Taken
by Jin Xhang
Summary: Daryl and Glenn are on a supply run and they meet a stranger living in an abandoned sex shop. However ridiculous he and his antics seem, he has the supplies to earn himself a place on the Hershel's Farm. His name and his life, a mystery, but how long will he be with the group before his cleverly strewn mask is forced to shatter? Daryl/ Glenn/ OC.
1. Chapter 1

**The Road Taken. **(Walking Dead x OC)

**Rated: **T. Gore, possible sex scenes in future chapters. (Rating will change in that case).

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Daryl grimaced. It was quiet here. Too quiet.

He and Glenn were asked to go on a short supply run to the local shopping centre. It was a twenty minute drive from the farm, but the town chemist had run dry of it's supplies. He didn't mind, it was a good break from the drama of the group. Someone had been sleeping with that person, and that person was doing something else—Daryl just didn't want to apart of it.

"Hey!" Glenn cried, turning the hunter's attention towards him. "Reckon you could be a lil' more quiet? We still don't know what could be 'ere." He glowered as he made his way towards him. "Oh, sorry about that." Glenn apologised, however still fixated on his discovery. "It's a bag of supplies.. canned food, bottled water and a flash light." He murmured, "Do you think there could be survivors here?" He asked.

There was a brief pause between them. Daryl picked up the backpack, taking a look for himself. He inspected it and every pocket—Glenn was right. He didn't think twice about slinging it over his shoulder. "What are you doing?" The younger asked in protest. "That doesn't belong to us! Whoever it belonged to could be looking for it."

"So?" Daryl asked simply, he didn't seem to care whose it was, "It's ours now." He scoffed. Glenn pouted in disapproval, although he couldn't argue about free supplies. ".. Fine. But if we find the owner, we're returning it." Daryl rolled his eyes at the gesture. "Whatever."

Glenn kept walking. The shops they had passed were not exactly what they were looking for—clothing shops, accessories and nothing of use. He followed the overhead signs towards the foods sections. Hopefully they weren't completely scavenged out by the others before them.

Daryl took notice of how the centre seemed so empty—there were dead bodies here and there but it wasn't as broken and run down as he thought it would be. But then again, it was a shopping centre in the middle of pretty much nowhere. There weren't much people around these parts.

They reached the parts they needed to find. Glenn took his time finding some canned food and medicine, just the general stuff that they needed. Daryl kept a watch, his crossbow on hand just in case they had any surprise guests. The scavenger managed to stock up his backpack to the brim with food and other items they would need.

"There's definitely enough here for us to come back on maybe two or three runs. We should bring more people next time." Glenn suggested as he zipped up his backpacks. Daryl nodded in agreement, rolling the ball of his foot on an empty bottle of beer. How he could go for one of those just about now.

"Con! Is that you?"

Daryl and Glenn went silent. The hunter ducked behind a kiosk and the other remained behind the counter. Daryl shot him a look, making a motion to stay where he was as he crept along the ground—seeking the owner of the voice.

"Come on, man.. where are you?"

The voice wailed, it was deep and masculine and definitely male. That put Daryl more on edge. Once there was no reply, the man stopped speaking. But his footsteps were not soundless. He walked along the tiled floors, his reflection on the windows of the opposing shops. He was carrying a gun.

"Hold it." Daryl seethed, cocking his crossbow once the male came into view. He walked past the corner and came straight into their sights. He was Asian, like Glenn. But not like Glenn his hair was brown, straight and longer. His skin was the same colour and their eyes had the same almond shape. But they held bags of tiredness underneath them. He looked younger, maybe two or three years or more. He was also leaner and skinnier—looking weaker and less worked.

There wasn't much time to observe him when he cocked up his rifle. "How about you give me a reason not to shoot you and your lil' buddy behind the counter." He called, obviously noticing Glenn through the window. "Look, I'm just looking for my friend—not trouble with you nice folks."

However, Daryl didn't lower his weapon. "Hate to break it to you, but we haven't seen a living person since we been 'ere." He nudged his head to where Glenn was, "Ain't that right, Short Round?" Glenn groaned inwardly, but voiced his agreement. "That's true! Sorry to say it.. but whoever you're looking for is gone."

The man scoffed, obviously not buying it. "Oh is that right?" He walked to the side, slowly, but still keeping up his guard. This caused Daryl to cock his crossbow again, finger on the trigger. "How do I know that you didn't kill him, and want to kill me for the clean up?"

"Because we're not bad people!" Glenn cried, his honesty shone through his voice. "How about you walk away and we continue our business 'ere. How's that sound?" Daryl asked, not a plead, but closer to a statement or order. There was a drawn out silence, neither parties voicing a word or making a move.

Until the man faltered, he put down his weapon, keeping it at his side. "Fine. I hear the sincerity in your voice." He admitted. "Which town are you fellows from? I haven't seen anyone.. alive, in months." Daryl rested his weapon too, the tension between them had ceased. For now.

Glenn came out of hiding, hopping over the counter. "We came from a farm about twenty minutes from here." The man arched a brow, "So you're in a larger group?" He asked with simple deduction. Glenn realised his mistake and silently cussed at himself.

"None of your damn business." Daryl retorted. "Don't you have a friend to find?" He mentioned, bringing up this male's initial intentions—finding his friend. He scoffed at his words, shaking his head. "Doesn't look like it. I had a feeling he'd be taking the high road after taking a few more guns than he needed." He chortled.

Daryl raised his brow at the sound of guns. "You have more weapons with you?" He asked, some eagerness expressed in his voice. The group were running low on their firearms, and it wouldn't be a bad thing having more than they needed.

"Why? Don't think I'll be letting them go without a good deal." He smirked, it seemed he wasn't inexperienced with these sort of negotiations. "You're living on a farm, aren't ya? I wouldn't mind living on a farm too." He hinted, it was obvious what he wanted now. There was security in numbers, after all. And his number was down to one.

"Wouldn't count on it." Daryl replied, the younger decided to stay out of this conversation. He didn't know what Rick wanted right now, but it didn't feel right to bring someone in without his knowing. But then again, he had told them how important weapons and supplies were right now.

"You sure? I'm just one, measly person. I know how to handle a gun, and I'm sure there's more farm work to be done. Not just that but.." He trailed off, his eyes rolling to the side. "Please. Just take a look. I've been hoarding for so long—I need to leave this place. More and more lurkers are showing up in this area and I don't think I'll last much longer on my own."

Glenn felt some guilt in his chest. This person seemed like they had been here for a very long time, and they did just lose their friend. It didn't seem like such an awful idea to bring him in. But Daryl's intentions were a little different. "We'll take a look." He hissed, gesturing for Glenn to come along. "But keep in mind. If it's less than you say, you can forget about your chances with us."

The man seemed to understand, letting out a breath of relief. "Right.. let's go then. I haven't seen a lurker here for days, so there's no need for that." He glanced towards Daryl's crossbow, but it appeared he didn't want to let it go. He ignored it.

"How long have you been camping out here?" Glenn asked, walking two or three paces behind the mysterious man. He gave a shrug, "Maybe a week after the whole outbreak. I left the cities and came across a small group—we came here, but they left my cousin and I behind a few weeks ago." Daryl snorted, "Not exactly helping yer' case."

The man laughed, it echoed through the empty centre. It worried Glenn a little bit. "It didn't help that they were white supremacists—rednecks from the South. They never liked us Asians." He eyed Daryl, "No offence." Daryl rolled his eyes, deciding not to reply to his comment. That was more Merle than him.

Glenn laughed awkwardly, the tension between these two made him feel uneasy—but it took Daryl quite some time to even warm up to him. "Doesn't look like there's much damage here. You've seemed to barricade it enough, Chinaman." Glenn noticed how he had shifted the nickname to the new addition. He was a little glad.

The man sighed, "I'm not Chinese. I'm Korean." Daryl looked a little distraught by his answer, not coming up with his usual remark. ".. Something wrong?" He quickly asked, glancing over his shoulder after noticing the silence. Glenn smiled, shaking his head. "No. Nothing's wrong." He peeked over at the hunter, but got no response.

"We're here."

They reached a small corner shop, it appeared that it was a sex shop. Much to Glenn's discomfort. "Don't think anything of it—I thought this would be the last place someone'd look for survivors." The man laughed somewhat awkwardly, but then gestured them to follow him inside.

It was extremely dark. The entrance to the store had some plastic beads dangling from the arch. It looked and felt very typical—not that either of them paid particular attention to these type of stores. They made their way through an aisle of various sex toys and playthings, Glenn paused for a moment to look at one peculiar object in a bright pink packaging. Daryl had to pull him away from it, lest his innocence be dirtied.

The man led them down a small fight of stairs and into another room labelled 'storage'. He unlocked it with a key from his tight pocket. The small room was flooded with full cardboard boxes and lumpy duffle bags. There were two sleeping bags in the corner and not much else.

Daryl headed straight to the duffle bags, knowing exactly what would be in them. The man stood near the doorway with Glenn, who let the hunter go ahead. He knew what he was doing. "What's in the boxes?" He asked, his eyes naturally at them. "Food." He replied simply, "Mostly canned and other non-perishable items.. a supply truck was passing through and it seemed to have broken down. Con and I scavenged what was left of it."

Glenn nodded, how fortunate. He had noticed trucks heading through Atlanta just before the outbreak went viral. Looks like he finally found out what they were for.

"You've got more than enough for at least twenty people." Daryl commented gruffly; counting the weapons he had here and the ammo along with them. "You'd be stocked for longer than I'd imagine." The man smirked, shrugging his shoulders. "With the food and the weapons.. we'd be set for ages." Glenn thought aloud.

"What do you think?" He added, the man remained silent as he let the pair discuss. He was hiding his desperation for a group better than he thought. Daryl mumbled something to himself, then standing up with one of the duffle bags over his shoulder. "Let's go. One person for all of these supplies—not even Shane will complain."

Glenn nodded in agreement. Rick would be relatively pleased, he thought. However, Shane would be on the fence. He figured most of the group would welcome the addition—granted he had the supplies with him. "Help us pack the supplies in the car. We parked out front." Glenn said with a smile, bending over to pick up one of the boxes.

The man grinned. "Sure." He helped Daryl with the second duffle bag, and carried another one of the boxes. Glenn had whispered something to Daryl, who responded with a flat nod. He felt a little nervous at that gesture, until the question posed.

_"So, what's your name?"_

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Thank you for reading. More information of this character will be revealed soon!


	2. Chapter 2

"Dallas." He replied. Glenn looked at him for a moment, not believing it was his real name, but accepted it nonetheless. "I'm Glenn." He introduced, "This is Daryl." He added, peering towards the redneck male who responded with a grumble. Dallas chuckled, "Pleasure's mine."

They reached the parked car, exactly where it was left just a few hours ago. Glenn packed the boxes in the back with Dallas, while Daryl threw the bags into the backseat. He couldn't say that he was especially pleased with the boy's arrival—but the weapons were certainly a welcomed addition. It was surprising that there were little to no walkers here. Maybe they were attracted to somewhere else.

Daryl went to the front seat, Glenn in the passenger and Dallas took his seat in the back. Once Daryl realised Dallas was in the back with the weapons, he threw them in the front on Glenn's lap. Dallas looked a little shocked, but understood why he did it. He put on his seatbelt, earning a strange look from the hunter. "Wh-What?" He asked in a slight stutter. "Nothing. Just haven't seen someone care for car safety in s'awhile." Dallas sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just in case."

The car rumbled to a start. It took a moment before it drove off. They sped down the road, passing by abandoned vehicles and walkers munching on animals they may have captured. Dallas kept his eyes on the window—staring at what had become of the world he grew up in.

Glenn noticed how quiet he became when they passed the small herd of walkers feeding. Their heads perked up when the car sped by, but they didn't follow. Half of the trip had gone by in complete silence. Daryl tapped his fingers against the wheel idly, and Glenn and Dallas occupied their eyes at the scenery.

"So, where ya from?" Daryl suddenly asked, breaking the silence. Dallas looked back at him, surprised. But he supposed he was just trying to make it less awkward—or get some information out of him. "Texas." He replied. Glenn stifled a smile, "Let me guess, Dallas?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder to receive an answer.

Dallas laughed sheepishly, "That's right, problem?" He asked with a slight tilt of his head. The scavenger shook his head. "None. Just seems a bit convenient." He mused. "Names.. numbers.. labels.." Dallas scoffed, leaning back in his seat as he stared out into the woods. "They don't mean anything now.. now that the world's gone to shit."

That was the first time he had sworn since their meeting. Daryl chortled, but kept his eyes on the road. "Got some mouth on ya." He commented, giving a brief glance into the rear view mirror at Dallas. Who arched a brow at him in return.

"How about you guys? You from these parts?" Dallas asked, returning the favour of the question. "I lived in Atlanta before all of this." Glenn explained, "Yeah? What happened? Last I heard, everything had gone to hell." Dallas asked, narrowing his brows just a bit. He was planning to go there once the outbreak began—Texas was hit pretty hard, with it's population, and the people weren't exactly keen on killing their 'sick'. But Dallas knew better than that. Once people began to eat each other.. he knew that was the time to get moving.

Glenn frowned just a little bit when he said that, "Yeah. That's exactly what happened. Though it was under control for a day, maybe two, it didn't take long before everything.. well, became like this." Daryl nodded in agreement, a somewhat sour look gracing his face. "That's right." He grumbled.

Dallas nodded, understanding. He assumed Daryl was from Georgia too, which explained his silence on the question. They left the subject alone for another ten minutes. It was quiet until they reached the farm. Dallas beamed. The grass looked so green and fresh and so.. alive. He could see animals in the distance. Cows, chickens, horses.. it was amazing.

Daryl parked the car with the others and got out. Glenn did the same, and Dallas followed suit. They were greeted by the other survivors. It was strange seeing this much people again, and working, and surviving together like this. Some old man and a blonde woman approached them. The woman gave a stern look Dallas as she noticed his presence with the pair.

"Who is this?" She asked Glenn quickly, however the older man didn't seem to be as fazed. He offered a smile, and Dallas smiled back, with just a little awkwardness. "We found him in the mall." Glenn replied, treading carefully with his words. "And what are these?" She continued to prod him with questions, referring to the boxes Daryl was carrying out.

The older man approached Dallas, still holding his somehow kind smile. "Sorry about this, but is there a particular reason you're here, son?" He asked. Dallas felt obliged to answer him, he was just so nice it was difficult not to. "He's from the mall." Glenn answered for him, keeping the blonde woman back with her questions.

"What's going on here?" Some new voice asked yet another question. He was tall and intimidating, his hair was dark but also shaven. He was a rough and gruffly looking man—he did not look happy about Dallas' sudden arrival. "Relax, he brought supplies, and guns." Daryl said quickly, shoving a duffle bag at him.

The gruff man sneered at Daryl, but took a look at the bag. He looked surprised once he realised it wasn't a lie—there was a newbie and he was bearing gifts. "This doesn't change anything. You still should have told us before bringing someone new to the farm!" He glowered, directing most of his anger at the hunter.

Glenn spoke up again, "Shane." He revealed the name of the broad male, "He was alone at the mall. We couldn't just leave him. He also had supplies. Lots of supplies. They could last us for a very long time. Dallas is just one person, after all." Shane groaned, slapping his forehead with his palm. ".. Talk to Rick about it. I don't think Hershel is going to want another person living on his farm. I'll take these." Shane huffed, taking the two duffle bags and walking off. The blonde woman followed him.

Dallas swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, looking towards Glenn, hoping he'd say something even a little comforting. "I.. I'll go talk with Rick. Daryl will take care of you for now, right?" He said, glancing over at Daryl as he returned to pick up another box. The redneck rolled his eyes—Dallas helped him as Glenn went off to his business.

"I'm Dale." The older man introduced as he picked up the final box, the lightest one. Dallas smiled weakly, but offered a polite nod. "It's a pleasure. I'm, well, Dallas." He said, although that was obvious now. They walked the short distance to the campsite, making small talk as Daryl remained silent. They dropped off the boxes beside an RV, it was Dale's home.

Dallas turned to thank Daryl, but he had disappeared. Dale laughed, "That happens a lot with Daryl. He likes to.. how should I say, be a lone wolf?" Dallas nodded in understanding, taking a small look around at their campsite. It was well kept, and was close to the house. "Not surprised. Seems like the type." He replied.

"The woman from before." He said, taking a seat beside an extinguished firepit, Dallas followed suit and sat opposite him. "Her name is Andrea. She's a little rough, but she's a nice girl. She tries hard for our group." Dale explained, as if he was covering for her, like he cared what Dallas thought of her. "I understand." He replied, "I am a stranger, I could be someone dangerous for all you know—not that I am, of course." Dallas quickly added.

Dale laughed again, it was contagious, and Dallas chortled. "But, anyway." He began, "Looks like Rick is heading your way. You've got to clear your name with him if you want to get anywhere with our group." He stood up as a man dressed in a sheriff's uniform strode towards them. Shane, Andrea, two women and a child, and an African American man followed him. Their group was a little bigger than he imagined. But it made no difference.

"You Dallas?" The sheriff, Rick, asked him. Dallas stood and nodded, bowing his head slightly to show the respect his parents taught him. Rick looked him over, starting from his toes to his head—he remained relatively silent. "I'm Rick. Glenn told me about you. He said you brought supplies and weapons with you, and that there's more at the mall you were bunking in at." He explained. His voice was calm and collected, it made sense that he was the leader and not someone like Shane.

"That's true. There's a lot more supplies hidden in the mall—keep me here, and we can return and pick them up." Dallas pleaded his case. It was obvious how much he wanted to be apart of a bigger group. "I can hold my own, I know how to use a gun and I know how take care of lurkers. You won't regret taking me in."

Rick crossed his arms. The group behind him remained quiet, except the brown haired woman, she placed a hand on the sheriff's shoulder and whispered to him. He nodded.

"You can stay. Provided you keep your promise about the supplies." Rick decided with a grin. He outstretched his hand and Dallas obliged. "Thank you. I am very pleased with your decision." His grin was dumbly excited. "Hershel, the owner of the farm, said it'd be fine for you to stay as long as you earn your keep." Rick explained, and Dallas understood.

Rick introduced the group. He met Shane, Andrea properly, T-Dog, Carol, Lori, his wife, and Carl his son. He received a mixed response from the group. Shane and Andrea weren't as excited, however the rest of the group were pleasant enough.

His welcome was short lasting as everyone went back to their chores. Dallas was left with no instruction, so he retreated back to Dale's company; the old man was probably his closest friend in the short time they knew each other. With the exclusion of Glenn, and maybe Daryl.

Dallas climbed up onto the RV and sat beside Dale as he kept watch. You could see the entire property from this view, and it was beautiful. "The farm is amazing." He commented, taking a breath of the crisp air. Dale nodded in agreement, relaxing in his rusty lawn chair. "It is. The group seems to be happy here, and so am I. We've been running around like headless chickens for so long, you have no idea."

"Is that so?" Dallas asked, tilting his head to the side in curiosity, "You look like a strong group. Must have been tough a lot with your numbers." He pondered aloud. Especially Andrea, he thought, she looked like the type who used to be nice until all this happened. "Believe me, our number used to be a lot bigger. We've all lost people we loved." Dale responded with a drawn out sigh.

"I understand." Dallas narrowed his brows, "So have I. It's been a long journey getting this far. I don't know where I'll be taken from here.. I just.. I have been relying on people this whole journey. Even before I ran into Glenn and Daryl, I was linked arms with my cousin twentyfour-seven." He groaned, running his hand through his hair, slouching in his seat.

Dale smiled, patting Dallas on the head, like a father consoling his son. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You're just a kid. It's fine to be relying on other people, especially in this circumstance. It's not like the end of the world happens every day." Dallas laughed at his words, they were comforting. "Yeah, I guess so.. but, well. It's become so easy to jump from group to group. I think it's ruining my character."

"Little bit of a wanderer, aren't you?" Dale asked, looking over the horizon for a brief moment. "Kind of, I mean.. I came all the way from Texas after what I heard about Atlanta being a safe zone. But what a bust that turned out to be." Dallas sighed, shaking his head. It was luck that he didn't get the chance to visit Atlanta.

"What type of groups were you wandering around with?" Dale asked, his curiosity peaking. "Uh." He stumbled with his response, "I guess. Since the actual outbreak, I've been with a few groups. The first group I joined was my college friends.. we were hunkered in our dorms until.." Dallas trailed off, the memory hurt like it did when it happened. "It's alright." Dale rubbed the boy's back soothingly, he nodded. "Uh. Then I joined up with a family, mom, dad, two kids. They were nice until we went out separate ways. They took real good care of me. Then, I found my cousin, a miracle it was. We joined a group of rednecks, bunked in the mall for a few days and they left. I think we ran out of our use then."

Dallas took a breath, "Two weeks later, my cousin and I stayed at the mall. We didn't see the group again, and the mall was safe from lurkers. It was perfect." The older man listened, nodding for him to go on. "But. This morning, he said he'd go look for some supplies. He took some guns with him, more ammo then he needed now that I think about it. But, after he had been gone I had to look for him and.. well, that's when I ran into Glenn and Daryl." He chuckled, shaking his head, "I've been very fortunate up until here, now that I think about it."

Dale was silent after listening to the boy's tale. But he seemed to understand and looked towards him with a smile on his bearded face. "You've certainly been here and there, haven't you?" He asked, Dallas replied with a nod. "But, you're here with us now. There's nothing to be concerned about, Rick has everything under control. We're lucky to have him." He continued, looking off into the distance—at the house, Rick, Lori and Carl were on the porch with Hershel.

"Definitely a happy family." Dallas scoffed, a hint of jealously hidden in his voice. He lost his family, a lot of people did. It was painful to see a family now. _Together_. "It's alright to feel a little pained about it." Dale mused, "I did too, for a little bit. But then I realised, well, this is my family now. Everyone here." Dallas gave him a weird look, but Dale only chuckled, "I guess you'd have to be here from the beginning to understand."

Dallas smiled, looking at the ground. "Yeah, I guess so."

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Some information about Dallas!

**Name:** Dallas.  
**Actor:** Aaron Kwak.  
**Gender:** Male  
**Age:** Late teens.  
**Status:** Alive.  
**Ethnicity:** Korean-American.

Thank you for reading!


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